The phenomenon saumaklúbbur “sewing club” is a well known Icelandic social tool. Basically it’s an informal gathering of 3+ women who meet regularly at one of the women’s homes to chat, have tea or coffee and snacks.

Originally there was probably some sewing involved in Icelandic sewing clubs, and I imagine that in the old days, sewing and knitting was of equal importance to their members as socializing, as was helping each other out with the handicraft and, yes, showing off the results.

In today’s Iceland, sewing doesn’t play a big part in the lives of young women anymore so these gatherings revolve more around eating, gossiping and laughing together.

Last night I went to Hveragerdi, south Iceland, to meet with my sewing club, called Hérahjarta (Hare’s Heart). It has eight members and they all belong to my circle of old high-school friends. My sewing club has NEVER done any sewing but very recently some of us took up knitting, and are getting quite competitive about it. But mostly we just want to stay in touch and see each other once a month, at least during the winter.

Hare’s Heart was founded over a decade ago, while my friends and I were still in high school and realized that after graduation we wouldn't see each other every day anymore.

We then went into various directions; two became nurses, one is a masseuse, one is an office worker, one has a degree in psychology, another in chemistry, the seventh in public health and I myself hold a BA in English.

Our paths would never have crossed and we probably would have lost touch after graduation if we hadn’t kept our sewing club going.

We have a special kind of friendship and I wouldn’t want to be without it. One of the girls in the club, Ása Björk, was one of my closest friends in high school and we often laugh at the fact that I hated her to begin with.

As a 16-year-old freshman at the Sudurland Junior College, I observed my new schoolmates very closely the first week. During breaks I sat or stood somewhere and secretly watched, and judged, the people around me.

Soon I noticed a girl who, for some reason, I thought looked grumpy and irritated. She stomped around clutching her schoolbag to her chest and seemed not to have a care in the world for others (according to my distorted perception of her).

I instantly got intimidated by her and decided she must be a total b**** whom I should avoid at any cost.

To my chagrin I discovered that she and I were in every class together, so I became determined to absolutely ignore her to avoid any dangerous encounters with her.

One day I was late for math and when I entered the classroom the only seat available was beside her. I started sweating as I slipped into the chair, hoping she wouldn’t get upset with me for interrupting her concentration.

I’d never been so focused in class before, my eyes never strolled away from the whiteboard and I’d never, ever shown so much interest in math.

All of a sudden the reason for my determined concentration—the girl sitting next to me—uttered something. I jerked and rolled my eyes in her direction. Yes, she was talking to me, asking to borrow my calculator!

I slid my calculator in her direction while still watching the whiteboard with even more determination than before, silently cursing her for not bringing her own bloody calculator to class. Stupid, careless girl.

What happened next is a blur to me. All I remember is that the following break we were sitting outside the classroom talking non-stop until the next class started and I was delighted to have met such a clever, funny and friendly girl to hang out with.

After that we were always together, the teachers sometimes referred to us as “the twins” when they tried to silence the two of us sitting at the back giggling and gossiping.

Now, almost 16 years later, we still giggle and gossip together. She got married last year and of course the entire sewing club attended, but only after throwing her a bachelorette party á la Hare’s Heart.

I try to remember not to prejudge people and tell this story whenever I hear someone jump to conclusions about other people. Imagine I had never gotten to know Ása Björk: Hare’s Heart would not exist and I would have missed out on great times and life-long friendships!

My friends and I may not be crazy about sewing, yet the Hare’s Heart sewing club is the reason our friendship is still as tightly knit as in our teens.

IRB – ingibjorgrosa@gmail.com

Ingibjörg is filling in for Bjarni who will return to the office next week.